


Please Don't Leave Me

by saphique



Category: Clouds of Sils Maria (2014)
Genre: Assistant/Employee, Boss/Employee Relationship, Emotionally Repressed, F/F, Older Woman/Younger Woman, Power Dynamics, closeted lesbian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-15
Updated: 2018-04-15
Packaged: 2019-04-23 09:32:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14329551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saphique/pseuds/saphique
Summary: Valentine used to have the audacity and the ability to glance at my soul, stare at me directly in the eyes. Now she avoids me, prefers to circle around me rather than brush my skin.





	Please Don't Leave Me

**Author's Note:**

> Written on a whim. I adore these two characters. English isn't my main language.

**Valentine's Point of View**

She avoids everything. _Wants some coffee?_ she asks, neglecting the topic of our disagreement. Without my reply, she takes the piston coffee maker and exists the living room.

_Cruelty is cool. Sufferance sucks._

Gosh, that is awfully summarized.  Thought I was eloquent, back the days.

It’s the snake. It’s the place. It is the damned script.

Infuriated, I can't help but throw away the sheets, since I am not allowed to shred them.

It is becoming harder and harder to breathe properly. The air is cold, humid and miserable.

What is becoming of us?

This… this writing, this play. I can feel the weight of the words, it has a firm grip against us, it is crawling into our minds, it is changing the complicity Maria and I once shared, it is altering the understanding we had of each other.

Before, I could provoke her and incite her. She would never admit it, but she liked being dared. We had a rhythm, practically a choreography where we danced around each other. Gravitate like earth and moon, we gain distance before becoming closer, more intimate. And detach ourselves again, become nearer once more.

Now, why are we being confrontational, all the time? Being defensive without a reason. Stand on our guards. It is not provocation. It is character incompatibility. It is scaring me, it is probably terrifying her.

I have my own interpretation of the play, and it is confusing Maria. It is becoming frustrating, to both of us. Maria is lost somewhere in time, immortalized, holding on to memories of strength and domination. Since she played Sigrid in her younger days, she remembers vividly all the emotions she felt towards Helena. She despised her and incarnated negative traits she never wanted to be associated with.

Maria needs to understand that Helena is still lovable, full of potential and true to her emotions. That's why she accepted to play Helena, isn't it? To expose her side of the story?

Maria does not want to be seeing as a vulnerable woman. I think she is absolutely petrified of transforming into Helena. She simply loathes Helena, because Helena mirrors her state. Without youth, Maria is confused, helpless and repressed. That's probably what is bothering her to death, she is playing herself.

Who is innocent, here? Who is mature and native? Who is NOT mature and innocent at once? I like that about Helena. I like that about Maria. Why can't Maria see that? Why can't Maria accept that part of herself?

It is uncomfortable. And it is not good.

It is forbidden to mention that the play reflects us. Mirrors us, too.

 

*******

**Maria's Point of View**

_Don't leave me._

_Don't leave me._

_Don't leave me._

_Don't start to hate me. Don't be disgusted by my self-hate. Don't let me hate myself even more. I need you. I need you in order to understand myself. I push your opinion away because they are too valid for me to recognize them._

Impossible for me to admit all of this. So, I only manage to ask her to stay. Here, in the Alps, in Sils-Maria, in this house.

Please, stay.

I need you.

I need you, I repeat, while holding Valentine so close to me. My breath damps into her messy hair. The palm of my hand is flat against her back, my fingers digging in her skin. I want to anchor us, here. The Moon and the Earth into collision. My other arm is curled against her neck, my hand placed on her shoulder. I cradle her into the crook of my elbow.

I act as if I'm trying to comfort her, but I am the one in need of consolation. I feel my life is bursting into pieces. Valentine is the one able to center me.

Wretchedly, I can sense her face look away, her body constricts into my grip. Like fog, like this mist, trying to vanish, to find an escape.

Valentine can be versatile and honest, but physical intimacy does not happen often.

For an instant, I hallucinate her arm grabbing me back, holding me dearly to her chest. But that impression also faints. Because soon, she turns away from my embrace.

As she walks to the kitchen counter, I wipe away my tears, disgraced, trying to hide myself from reality.

Valentine used to have the audacity and the ability to glance at my soul, stare at me directly in the eyes. Now she avoids me, prefers to circle around me rather than brush my skin.

_Please don't leave me._

*******

**The Clouds**

She is still here. But not completely, not as a hole. For how long will she stay? When will I compulsorily, without meaning it, push her way for good?

Valentine always respectably share her vision if we ask for her opinion. She speaks decently and there are no grey lines.

As we exit the hotel where we met Jo-Ann Ellis and Christoper Giles, Valentine still talks honestly, finds it funny that I appreciate people who flattered me all evening long.

She drives us home, is able to navigate into foreign territory in the blackness of the night. I put all my trust in her. Even when we are both equally drunk. I don't trust myself enough. I never trust myself enough for anything. I love Valentine too much to put expose her to my own irresponsibility.

She is paid so that I can trust her, this represents the basics of our relationship. That fact always lurks in the background, peeks and reminds me of the contract established between us.

When we get back into the house, laughing hysterically and drunk, I profoundly hope that initial professional relationship is forgotten. Because the night feels real. Our laughs are pure. Our connection, our choreography, is fortunately operative. Everything feels real and more than only satisfactory.

I could kiss her, right now, in the middle of this blessed night, where our discordance is forgotten. We feel playful, faithfull, just like back in old time, when we were fresh and pleasing to each other.  

As I'm high on whatever thing she makes me smoke, I can hear her mock me, a little distain, because I distance myself from the internet tsunami of gossips. She welcomes me to the real world.

The real world. The real world does not exist outside this tiny house, away from the warm fire and the melody of her laugh.

I could kiss her, right this instant, like Helena wishes to kiss Sigrid so desperately.

The script, the clouds, the snake, Valentine's hair… everything is clouding my judgment.

******

**The Snake**

_Text is like an object. Its going to change perspective based on where you are standing._

Valentine, you are absolutely right. But I say no. I push your truth and your vise thoughts away, again.

I have the audacity to doubt you.

Doubt the assistant paid and qualified to guide me. Doubt the reality and the bewitchment of the snake.

Needless to say, I have to change my perspective of you. In order to do so, I have to explore myself. I take you for granted. There, the initial deal, the contract. I pay you in exchange for your guidance. Who is redeemable?

There, the snake in the mountain pass.

_Don't you see the snake?_

_Val?_

_VAL!_

_Answer me!_

_You LEFT me!_

_You used the snake to escape._

The snake leaks, crawls, drifts, stretch… it is consuming us alive. I'm scared, I feel like I am dying, alone in the clouds of Sils Maria.

I'm lost in my memories. Helena is eaten alive by the snake. The snake twirl around Sigrid's wrist.

I live outside of time.  


End file.
